


i'm sick of losing sleep and counting sheep again

by terramous



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [13]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:40:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28729026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terramous/pseuds/terramous
Summary: Despite his father’s pleas, TK couldn’t help the urge to give into the unconsciousness pressing on him. Each pathetic attempt at catching his breath was getting harder and harder. He was losing his strength, his will to fight, it was much too easy for him to just let his eyes slip closed.TK opened his eyes to darkness, but he still couldn’t breathe.💕TK has a nightmare about being shot
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775494
Comments: 9
Kudos: 152
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	i'm sick of losing sleep and counting sheep again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eliotts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliotts/gifts).



> happy (belated) birthday to my lovely [jill!!](https://rafaelsilva.tumblr.com/) 💕💕 i hope this fic finds you well and you enjoy it!!!
> 
> bad things happen bingo prompt - nightmares

There was a fire ripping through his chest, taking the air from his lungs with it. His ears were ringing and it felt like there was a growing pressure in his head, drowning out his senses with an expanse of nothingness. 

Taking a step back, TK found himself unable to gather his bearings, his feet slipping out from underneath him. And he was falling.

There were hands grabbing him, trying to slow his descent as he plummeted. 

So many people were crowding him as he laid on the floor, he hadn’t even realised he’d connected. Why couldn’t he catch his breath?

But this father was there, by his side, trying to talk to him. His blue eyes were wide and his mouth moved too fast for TK to keep up even if he could make out the words. TK could see that his dad was holding his hand, and if he focused he could feel the weight of it against his palm.

He was looking blankly up at his father when he felt the pressure on his chest and the sharp, burning pain that flooded through his entire body. 

The pain broke through the ringing in his head, allowing for the sound to come rolling over him like a wall of what TK could only describe as panic. There was so much happening and so many people talking that it almost melted together into white noise.

“TK? TK can you hear me?” Owen asked hurriedly, searching for any hint that TK understood him.

TK could only offer him a strained nod. It was a small movement, but it was all he could muster. Who knew getting shot could make someone so tired? If anything, TK had expected the adrenaline to drown out almost everything, including the majority of his pain. 

Like back in New York, where TK was so caught up in the high of his adrenaline after a huge house fire, only to wake up the next day and be forced to call his dad and tell him, however reluctantly, that he couldn’t move. And after a trip to the ER, it was confirmed that he hadn’t felt any of his four broken ribs until the adrenaline wore off. 

Owen wasn’t even shocked that he’d managed to break four ribs and not notice, more surprised that he managed to get all the way home and sleep before he felt them.

He kind of wished he had the pain-dulling adrenaline coursing through his veins right now, instead of whatever was letting him feel everything. Michelle’s hands were pressed firmly on top of where TK assumed the wound was, and he desperately pleaded with his consciousness that it’d leave.

He couldn’t breathe.

In fact, every attempt just left him in pain and feeling more breathless than the last.

Michelle was barking out orders that were lost on TK’s ears as he felt his grip slipping. He idly wondered if he was losing too much blood to stay awake, and if that were the case, passing out would not be a good thing. But it was one thing to realise the weight of the situation, and another thing entirely to not collapse under it. 

Despite his father’s pleas, TK couldn’t help the urge to give into the unconsciousness pressing on him. Each pathetic attempt at catching his breath was getting harder and harder. He was losing his strength, his will to fight, it was much too easy for him to just let his eyes slip closed.

TK opened his eyes to darkness, but he still couldn’t breathe. 

It was like there was something crushing his chest, a tight band wrapped around his ribcage that wouldn’t let his lungs expand enough to take in air. 

He was dying. His chest hurt and his lungs were on fire.

He was suffocating.

But he wasn’t alone. 

There was soft snoring next to him and TK couldn’t figure out who it could be. He was clothed so the likelihood of it being a random hookup was almost definitely out of the question. He liked to sleep in his own bed, first of all. But this wasn’t his bed. 

His mind reeling, he tried to figure it out. Something was wrong with his chest and his breathing. His bullet wound was raw and painful, fresh agony as if he had just been shot.

Something was very wrong and he was in some stranger’s bed.

Feeling claustrophobic under the weight of the blanket, he peeled it off of his body in a daze as he slipped out of the bed. 

Under the soft glow of the moonlight pouring through the curtains, TK could make out vague details of the room. The poster on the wall that he couldn’t make out the details of, a bookshelf covering half of the same wall, none of which helped him figure out where he was. 

Until his eyes landed on a teddy bear on the nightstand, the little badge on its chest catching in the light. The silly little police bear that TK had given Carlos the day before, when they met up for lunch. Only two days after the solar flare. 

He was in Carlos’ house and slept in Carlos’ bed. 

He couldn’t dwell on that fact though, he needed to assess whatever was going on with his wound before he debated the necessity of waking Carlos up. He really didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing

TK tried not to disturb Carlos. He really couldn’t take that embarrassment right now, it was their first time spending the night together, TK couldn’t bear to ruin it. 

It seemed like so much longer ago than a few hours. Carlos and TK had been caught up in a tangle of limbs as they watched movies, Carlos mumbling his commentary into TK’s hair until he pressed a kiss there as the credits rolled, and asked TK to stay the night.

And now TK was trying to picture the layout of the bedroom as he staggered around in the poor lighting. He could navigate his own home in the dark with ease, but this was not his bedroom and he didn’t even know where the light switch was. Not that he’d use it, the light would undoubtedly wake Carlos up, but it sure would be nice to get out of the room without tripping and cracking his skull open.

It would be just his luck, too.

Not only was he on the verge of panic because he couldn’t breathe, but he was trying to figure out the best course of action to deal with it in his kind-of-boyfriend’s bedroom at some ungodly hour to be awake. He and Carlos were still new, still unsure of what they wanted to do or where they wanted to take their relationship and how fast. Tonight was supposed to be a first step for them. 

It had been. They’d fallen into bed together without much fuss. They just cuddled and talked until they fell asleep. TK watched as Carlos’ eyes slipped closed and he slipped away into a dream land, and after a while of just happily watching Carlos sleep, TK had joined him in unconsciousness, but only to find his experience much more distressing. 

So now TK had to figure out what to do. 

Leaving the room definitely seemed like the only sensible option at this point. If he could put enough distance between himself and Carlos, then he could just work through this without waking the other man. 

Nothing could compare to the sense of relief TK felt when he found the door handle and pulled it open. 

Slipping out into the hallway made TK feel like he could finally breathe again. 

Of course, his chest still felt tight and he couldn’t soothe the racing of his heart but at least he didn’t have to worry about waking up Carlos. What he didn’t need right now was Carlos looking at him with pity, like he was a stray animal that needed to be put down. Defenseless and broken. 

Fumbling, he failed to find a lightswitch and just internally groaned. He really hadn’t been to Carlos’ place enough to commit its layout to memory and in the dark while feeling like he was about to collapse, wasn’t making navigation any easier. 

Blindly, he wandered down the hallway, trying to remember where the door to the bathroom was. Maybe if he could just take a few minutes to get his breathing under control, then he’d have better luck figuring out what was going on.

Thankfully, it didn’t take him too long to find his destination, or much longer to turn on the light. 

It was much better to be able to see what he was doing than to stumble around in darkness.

However, making eye contact with his reflection in the mirror made TK want to cringe. He looked horrible. His face was pale but his eyes were wild, the sheen of sweat covering him plastered his hair and the collar of his shirt to his skin. 

He turned on the tap with a shaky hand and splashed the water on his face, hoping that it would bring with it some clarity of thought. He needed to deal with his wound but he wasn’t steady enough to stay upright at this point. 

The water was a cool relief against his hot skin but that was as far as it went. 

He briefly thought to call out to Carlos. Something was wrong.

As a wave of dizziness hit him, TK clung to the counter with a yelp and tried to push himself back up. He was losing the strength to hold himself up.

He couldn’t breathe.

He was going to die in Carlos’ bathroom.

As if on cue Carlos’ voice filtered through the air. It was muffled by sleep but it was definitely him. “TK?” 

Startled, TK jumped up. He reached for the counter to steady himself and far too many things clattered to the floor as he staggered. The sound bounced off of the walls, with each reverberation it’s volume growing tenfold until the simple sound of the impact as a plastic bottle hit the floor roared in TK’s ears like a dragon. 

Carlos’ voice came again, this time higher, alarmed, awake. “TK?”

Staggering backwards until he hit the bathroom wall, TK’s legs lost their strength. He was sliding his back down the wall as Carlos appeared in the doorway of the dingy bathroom. 

His eyes were wide and his curls roughly tousled into a bedhead. He clung to the door frame for a moment before he was moving again. Carlos was knelt in front of him as TK hit the ground.

“TK? TK, talk to me. What’s happening?” 

“I-” TK rubbed his hand over the gauze pad on his chest, trying to soothe the pain. “I can’t breathe.”

“Okay, okay, can you try breathing with me?” Carlos made a demonstration of a few exaggerated breaths. 

He could see Carlos’ breaths but his attempts to mimic them fell short. He couldn’t get his lungs to cooperate, all he could manage were shallow, staggered breaths. TK continued rubbing his bandage, hoping that the pain would bring him some clarity. Only to snatch his hand back when he felt wetness. 

Carefully, Carlos took the hand away from TK’s throat and into his grasp. “Are you hurt?”

Closing his eyes, TK nodded. “Hurts.” 

“Alright. Alright, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay.”

💕

“Have you ever had a panic attack before?” Michelle asked as she zipped up her duffel bag. 

“I- yeah. Just never like that,” TK said, dropping his head into his hands. This was embarrassing. Beyond embarrassing. 

To have a panic attack in the middle of the night, at Carlos’ house, in which he thought he was dying was one thing. Having scared Carlos enough for him to call for help, and for Michelle to determine that it was nothing, was worse. 

Michelle continued packing up her gear as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “It makes sense, you’ve really gone through the wringer lately. But the good news is that your shoulder is healing perfectly fine.”

“I’m sorry you had to come out here for nothing,” TK sighed, avoiding Michelle’s gaze. He felt like an idiot. More than that, a dramatic idiot. 

“It wasn’t nothing,” Carlos chimed from the doorway. He hadn’t even left TK’s side for long enough to put on a shirt, his eyes following TK’s every movement with worry.

“I’d rather come for nothing than not come if something was wrong, y’know?” Michelle said, her tone a lot more genuine than TK was used to. 

“Still, can we keep this between us? My dad doesn’t have to know.” 

“It might be a bit late for that.” Carlos clicked his tongue and pitched in from the doorway.

TK shot Carlos a look he hoped communicated how upset he was. There were already too many people who knew about this little fiasco. “You called my dad?” 

Carlos matched his attitude with a shrug. “TK, there is an ambulance in my driveway. What was I supposed to do?”

“I didn’t tell you to call 911.”

“TK you were freaking out on my bathroom floor saying you couldn’t breathe and your chest hurt.”

“And?”

Carlos raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. “You were shot.”

As much as TK didn’t want to dwell on the fact that he’d been on the wrong end of a gun, he knew that it had shaken the people around him. They were going to worry and as much as TK didn’t like that he was the reason for it, it really reaffirmed that he wasn’t a stranger to them anymore. 

He and Carlos had come a long way from that night under the harsh lights of the police precinct. TK had been rolling in his residual anger until the moment he met Carlos’ gaze and it all evaporated, he was still precariously balanced on the fence between healing and falling for those warm brown eyes that seemed to care for TK more than either of them knew. 

Until of course the fence fell apart because loving Carlos Reyes was proving itself to be something that helped TK to mend the scars on his heart. He didn’t need to avoid love because he had been burned by it in the past, he needed Carlos.

Carlos Reyes who let TK lay his soul bare, like a spreadsheet of everywhere he was broken and ruined, then reached over to draw an asterisk and write ‘worthy of love anyway’.

Carlos Reyes who proved he was willing to love TK despite everything.

“It was the first time that I’ve dreamed about getting shot. I didn’t even remember what happened until now, so I guess I just freaked out.” TK looked away, suddenly feeling exposed as Carlos patiently waited for him to say his piece. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this.”

“It’s no big deal. You’re fine, I’m fine, don’t stress. Things happen, TK, it’s not like you planned it.”

“That’s true,” TK rubbed the back of his neck in a self-soothing gesture. “If I planned it I certainly wouldn’t have planned it tonight. I’m exhausted.”

“You can go back to sleep soon.”

TK had become so caught up in Carlos’ soft and worried eyes that he’d almost forgotten that Michelle had been there to witness it all. “I hate to interrupt, but I think your dad just pulled up. Do you want me to talk to him? Soften the blow?” 

“Please,” TK almost begged.

“Gotcha.” Michelle didn’t take long to string up all her gear and slip away. Not before sticking her head back around the doorway. “You owe me, Strand.”

“Thank you, Michelle,” Carlos said in a soft voice. 

She gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Just doing my job. Put on a shirt before your loverboy's dad catches you.”

“Sure. I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow.”

“I’m holding you to that.” 

Then she was gone and Carlos’ attention fell entirely on TK. He crossed the small bathroom in a few light strides until he was kneeling in front of TK once more. This time he wasn’t afraid though, but his eyes nervously scanned TK’s expression as he placed a hand on either shoulder.

“Can I…?” 

TK wasn’t entirely clear on what Carlos was asking, but when Carlos was this close to him, he always had a problem with saying no. So he nodded.

Carlos leant forward to press a soft kiss to TK’s hairline before pressing their foreheads together. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Sorry for scaring you.”

“Shh, you’re ruining the moment.”

**Author's Note:**

> title: grayscale - old friends
> 
> [tumblr](https://firefighterstrand.tumblr.com/)


End file.
